I can’t speak.
‘I mean it, E. If you want to end this, end it now. You leave the room, and I’ll know it’s over.’ He turns away from me, facing out the window once more. His shoulders move up and down with his breath, the only sign of his agitation.
He’s given me the perfect out. Leave the room, and it’s done. So why won’t my feet move? Why does my heart feel like it’s breaking in my chest? I stand there as though trapped in amber, as though I’ll be in this room, this moment, for ever.
Michael looks over his shoulder. He makes a sound, a cross between a groan and a growl, and surges towards me. Our bodies collide. He takes my face in his hands, then his mouth slants across mine, possessive and hungry. I’m all heat and embers, blazing in his arms. He lifts my skirt, his touch sliding on my thigh. I’m lost in him, already pulling his shirt free, greedy hands seeking the warm skin beneath. His mouth goes to my throat, and I tense. But he kisses me, soothing me, as though he knows my fears.
‘I want you,’ he groans. ‘So much.’ His fingers slide between my legs, and my core becomes liquid, molten to the heat of his touch. He backs me up towards the sofa, both of us still kissing, exploring each other.
‘Emelia! Michael! What in darkness do you think you’re doing?’
Shit. Michael and I spring apart, breathing hard. I run my hand through my hair, trying to calm myself.
My mother, flanked by two of her personal guards, is standing in the open doorway. But she doesn’t look angry.
She looks worried.
Fuck.
ChapterThirty-Six
WANT AND NEED
‘Leave us.’ My mother waves her hand.
The guards retreat from the room, closing the doors. I’m mortified, my cheeks aflame. I don’t dare glance at Michael, but I’m aware of him, like a fire at the edge of my being.
My mother perches on the sofa. She chews her lip for a moment, her dark brows coming together. Finally, she speaks. ‘You cannot be together.’
‘My lady, I?—’
‘Oh, you know it’s Penelope.’ She waves one slender pale hand. ‘Honestly, Michael, I think you’d be a fine consort for my daughter. But she has made promises elsewhere.’
‘I’m right here,’ I say, stung into speaking. ‘And I haven’t promised anything to anyone.’
‘No, you haven’t.’ My mother sounds thoughtful. ‘Nothing official, anyway. But you’re wearing his jewel, at a ball held in your honour. Danced your first dance with him. Did you not think anyone would notice the two of you missing?’
My heart sinks. ‘Did Joaquin?—’
‘Joaquin is with your father, no doubt being shown a series of paintings of illustrious Raven ancestors.’ Amusement gleams in her eyes. ‘I made sure he was occupied, when I saw that you’d gone.’
‘I realise how this looks, Penelope, but I have true feelings for Emelia,’ Michael says. ‘And I would like to declare my suit, if I may.’
My mouth drops open. ‘What?’
He shrugs. ‘I’m just asking for what I want.’
‘Whatyouwant?’ I feel as though everyone around me has gone insane. ‘What about whatIwant?’
‘And what is that, Emelia?’ My mother’s voice is serious.
I look at Michael. He meets my gaze, his handsome face giving nothing away, as though we weren’t just clinging to each other moments ago, as though I don’t burn at his very touch. I think of Joaquin, how it feels to dance with him, what he can offer me and my realm. Both safe harbours, but for different reasons. It’s outrageous that I have to choose.
‘I don’t know.’
A muscle ticks in Michael’s jaw. My mother looks from me to him.
‘Michael,’ she says, her voice gentle. ‘Perhaps you’d like to head back to the ballroom? We can talk about this later. I know the ambassador from Ravenko is keen to speak with you. I’ll bring Emelia back with me.’
